Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any recognizable character and am not making any profit by using them.
Enjoy!
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Start-up
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"John."
"Hm."
"What are you doing here?"
"Just closing my eyes for a sec."
"It looks like you are sleeping whilst sitting up."
"No, really, just... a few minutes."
"Maybe you should go to bed."
"Yeah... need to take off shoes first..."
...
"John. John!"
"Hmwhat? I´m here."
"You´re still not in bed."
"No... shoes..."
John didn´t know why, but he couldn´t recall having ever felt so tired. He had come home and all but dropped onto the sofa, wishing to rest only a moment before climbing the stairs up to his room, but the instant he´d been sitting, his eyes had closed on their own account. He knew he had to get up and undress and all that, but it seemed impossible.
And then it hadn´t anymore, he had somehow gotten up and was already upstairs, shoes off and his bed turned down- but something kept nagging at the back of his mind. Something unpleasant- oh, no. He had only dreamed he had gotten up, he was really stillsitting on the sofa.
But then there were two hands who were taking his, pulling him up to his feet. Oh, yes, Sherlock had been talking to him, hadn´t he? And now it seemed he was trying to help John- sweet Sherlock, he was supporting John and had one arm firmly around his midriff, which made walking a lot easier, especially since his eyes were still closed.
Sherlock smelled good, too; John turned his face into his flatmate´s shirt and sighed, breathing in deeply. The stairs were a challenge, but somehow, they managed, completely without bumping into anything on the way, and then John was in his bed, shoeless and tucked in by long-fingered hands.
"Good night, John," Sherlock´s deep voice said, and the doctor nearly giggled while he was already dozing off again: "Night, love," he muttered before he knew nothing more.
Sherlock paused, a half-amused, half-contemplative look on his face, before closing the door.
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Fin
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